Fell
by silvermyth
Summary: Sora is really having an awful day. The weather is crap, work is crap, and something strange has happened at his apartment.


It was a miserable night to be out, cold and blustery and rainy and just uncomfortable, but Sora was out in it anyway. He'd decided to walk home, to sooth his nerves. It had been just as miserable in the daytime, the damp pervading the air even in the office, adding to that the dour mood that seemed to affect everyone, and even Sora had had trouble keeping up his usual perkiness. The last straw had been just before he walked out the door, when he dropped his favorite mug and watched it tumble to the tiled break room floor, where it shattered.

So Sora walked with a pronounced slouch, feet dragging against the wet tarmac, and then the sidewalk, even his hair wilting from the rain weighing it down.

He stopped at a corner, staring blankly in front of him while he waited for the light to change, his breath coming out in clouds. Sora huddled deeper into his coat, trying to find some comfort, and he realized too late that he was too close to the curb, when he was caught in a splash as a car sped by.

"Ugh, really?" he grumbled, stepping back. "It's just not my day, is it?" He let out a huff, feet moving forward again as the light finally changed. He just needed to get home, dry off, and climb into bed. Then everything would be fine again, or so he hoped.

Of course, with the way his day had been going, he wouldn't make it home without incident.

He could hear the sound of sirens from several blocks away, and he wouldn't have thought anything of it, except that the nearer he got to his apartment, the louder the sound became. And the flashing lights were parked in front of his block. Sora just stared at the smoke drifting up from the roof of his building, before turning on his heel to go to the park.

By now, he didn't even want to know.

The screech of sirens faded, and the rain was letting up, so it was an improvement. Sora was already rather drenched, so the water on the seat of the swing made no difference to him as he sat with a world-weary sigh. He rocked back and forth, in a slow rhythm, and let it all slip away, until it was just Sora and the gentle movement of the swing, and the quiet rush of tires on wet pavement. If the weather had been better, he would have stayed there even longer, letting the night lull him into a comfortable drowsiness, but the cold beginning to creep into his bones motivated him to return home.

The emergency vehicles had already vanished back into the night, and his building was still accessible. Squeaking and dripping, he travelled down the hall, up the elevator, and to his door, where he paused.

He hadn't remembered leaving the radio on when he left.

Sora fished his keys out with a perplexed frown. Come to think of it, he had never heard that music before.

The voice on the other side of his door was rich and deep, and beautiful beyond words. Sora pressed a hand to his door, eyes wide. He _must_ be imagining it. The sound seemed to be warming him from the inside out, and he couldn't bring himself to move away from it. He fumbled for his keys, feeling clumsy compared to the graceful sound in his ears, but he needed to get closer. Needed to wrap himself up in that voice.

He put more force into the door than he'd planned, and it banged against the wall. He barely noticed, except that it marred the song. But that was okay, it was closer now.

He stumbled, and that was the only reason he noticed that half of his apartment had been trashed, because his eyes had been too busy searching for the source of the voice. Even then, it didn't really register to Sora, not even the broken glass strewn across the floor, or the draft it caused.

The singing was coming from his bedroom.

Sora paused again in the doorway, searching, until his gaze landed on the stranger. They were turned away, Sora's blue comforter hanging over their shoulders and long silver hair falling down their back. They were singing still, and it was beautiful, but self-preservation kicked in. He cast about, looking for something to defend himself. Finding nothing threatening at hand, he adjusted his grip on his keys, wrapping a dangling chain around his knuckles. "How'd you get in here?" he demanded.

The singer stopped abruptly and turned, aqua eyes wide. He stumbled back, tripping on the blanket. "I-I—I fell." He struggled, still trying to back away as Sora approached, moving with cautious steps.

Sora's face softened. He was kind of cute, tangled in the comforter, silver hair falling to frame his face. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, and the forlorn look of someone lost. Not to mention that voice… "Are you alright?" Sora murmured.

He clutched the blanket tighter, as if to protect himself, and his eyes dropped to Sora's feet. "I fell. I didn't mean to, it was an accident."

"Yeah, you got a little tangled up there." He held his hand out, but the other only stared. "Let me help you back up." The hand that reached from the blankets to grasp his was reluctant, and when their hands touched, he was fever-warm. Standing, he was a head taller than Sora; the brunette tightened his hand around his keys again. "Really though. How did you get in here?"

"I. Fell." This time the other's voice was firm. "Then those people came, and I went through the window. It felt safe in here."

"Safe…? Are you in trouble? Did you do something?" Sora narrowed his eyes, drawing back again. He suppressed a shiver of cold. "Look, I can help call you a taxi or something if you like, but—"

"It's not like that. What part of 'Fell' don't you understand? I'm not—I've lost my Grace! I don't even know why!" The other let out an exasperated sigh.

"Okay then," Sora said, skeptical. "So, uhm, if you _fell_ , and you lost your grace…do you at least still have a name?"

"Riku." The other's hand had retreated back into the cocoon of blankets, and he stood stiff and unmoving.

"And your last name?"

"It's just Riku. We don't have need of another name."

Sora chewed his lip in thought. "Well, Riku, nice to meet you. I'm Sora. I'd like to help you out, so is there anyone I can call who might be able to pick you up?"

" _Sora_. Look." Riku shook his head as if to clear it. "I Fell. From Heaven," he pointed at the ceiling and drew a line with his finger to the floor, "into this place. There were so many people, it startled me, so I came in through the window," he pointed at the wall to indicate the other room. "It felt safe in here. It's no Heaven, but, I don't know, I felt drawn here. There's no one to call."

Sora shivered, and he was still damp and cold; he felt exhausted from the day, and then being out in the elements. But he couldn't rest yet, with the intruder here. No matter how beautiful he was. Sora didn't know him, he was probably crazy, and anyway, Riku was still using his blanket. The thought made him feel colder, and even a bit dizzy.

"Maybe I should call a cab to take you to the hospital. In case you hurt yourself when you fell." Sora dug into his pocket for his phone, but his hands weren't cooperating, and it dropped to the floor. "I should call…" his fingers were numb, and as Sora bent to pick up the phone, he only dropped it again. "Shit." He fell on his butt, dazed. "I really don't feel well suddenly." A violent shiver wracked his body, and Sora let out a small whimper.

Riku regarded this with curiosity, eyes flickering in thought. "You're ill." He frowned, and for the first time since he'd been discovered, took a step towards Sora. With a rustle of blankets, he knelt in front of the brunette and reached a hand out to touch him, only to snatch it away again. "So cold!"

Sora's teeth chattered in concurrence.

For all that Sora had startled him, and even annoyed him a little, Riku felt drawn to him. Sora's space felt safe, but Sora felt even _better_ , his soul was so bright and wonderful, and seeing him ail made Riku unhappy. So, despite the discomfort of the cold and sodden clothing, Riku reached out and gathered Sora into his arms, wrapping him into a cocoon of warmth.

Sora blinked at the change of predicament, his mind sluggish and slow to react. Riku was a furnace, radiating heat, and he snuggled into the embrace, trying to drive away his chill. His clothes were in the way, and he tugged at them, hands still mostly useless, and that distressed him. A word came to mind, and fell from his lips in a whisper. "Hypothermia." He'd been outside in the cold, with wet clothes, for too long. His breath was shortening, and he pulled at his clothing more frantically.

Riku hushed him gently, and taking Sora's actions as a hint, helped the brunette peel clinging fabric away from his skin. "But won't this make you colder?" he wondered aloud.

Sora shuddered, and shook his head. It didn't matter who or what Riku was, only that he had to get warm, fast, and Riku was helping him. His teeth ached from chattering. He was too freezing to care that Riku was already nude under his comforter; it just meant that the press of skin against him was unobstructed, giving him heat selflessly.

Sora wasn't sure how or when they made it to the bed, only that it was much more comfortable than the floor, and it meant that the full length of his body was pressed against heat.

He fell asleep to the sound of Riku singing again, the sound reverberating in the other's chest, and despite the crappy day and the crappy weather and the bone-deep cold, Sora felt content.


End file.
